


Suspiriorum

by Harleys_Impulse



Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Bluepulse, M/M, Suspiria AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 00:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harleys_Impulse/pseuds/Harleys_Impulse
Summary: Bart Allen is invited to study at the most celebrated dance academy in Europe, located in Freiburg, Germany. When he witnesses a boy running from the school, screaming in terror and mumbling incoherent phrases, he wonders what could have driven a person to such madness. When he comes back the next morning, the school seems normal and everyone brushes off the boy as an exception, and disturbed. The longer he stays, however, the more strange and horrifying events he witnesses. As he attempts to unravel the many secrets of the academy, an evil force plots against him.AKA the Suspiria AU nobody asked for.





	1. Ouverture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart Allen arrives in Freiburg, where he receives a cold reception and witnesses a mad person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in 1977, the year Suspiria came out, but I hope it has more of a timeless feel to it. Nothing should be said that will date it so specifically (aside from the mention of a phone booth in the second chapter). This chapter is very short, definitely the shortest, because it is just used to set the tone and mood. Chapter two will follow shortly but I don't know when a chapter after that might be done.

              Bart Allen decided to perfect his ballet studies at the most famous dance school in Europe. He chose the celebrated academy of Freiburg. One day at 9:00 am, he left JFK Airport in New York and arrived in Germany at 10:40 pm local time. The German airport was cold and uninviting, and everyone seemed in such a hurry to get where they were going. This was fine for Bart, who felt everyone back in America moved too slowly. He matches the poised posture and determined looks on everyone’s faces, hoping to just blend in and not be noticed.

              Even the glass exit doors showcased a dark and cold environment. He could see it was raining, and probably colder than he’d prepared for. He was wearing a lavender sweater, jeans and converse that almost perfectly matched the sweater. He might have something in his bag or suitcase that would be warmer, but to grab it he’d have to disrupt the flow of traffic, which didn’t seem like the smartest thing to do. He sighed, knowing he’d have to face the cold rain. Bracing himself, he walked out of the airport.

              Outside, the weather was even worse than he’d feared. Lightning cracked in the sky above, and the thunder was so loud he dropped his suitcase. Struggling to pick that up, he dropped his bag as well. He managed to get ahold of both of them, and hurried to the sheltered bus station. He set his luggage down and moved to the front of the sidewalk, attempting to hail a taxi. “Taxi!” he called out desperately, but several passed him by without notice.

              He finally ran out in front of a taxi, managing to get the drivers attention. Once loaded, he let out a sigh of relief to be freed from the rain, however briefly. “Where to?” asked the driver in a heavy accent.

              “Escherstrausse.”

              “What?”

              “Esh-err-straw-suh.”

              “What?”

              Annoyed, Bart pulled out a letter from the school and handed it to the driver. “Ah, Escherstrausse.”

              Bart rolled his eyes and put the letter back in his bag. As they drove to the school, Bart tried to get a sight of the city, but it was impossible to see with such heavy rain. Bored, he tried to make conversation with the driver. “Has it been raining this hard for long?”

              The cab driver just slightly turned his head, acknowledging Bart spoke but refusing to grace him with an answer. After a long stretch of silence, he finally muttered “half an hour”.

              _Great_ , Bart thought. _Literally right when I landed_.

              The rest of the ride was in silence. Although Bart couldn’t see the city, he admired the lights. He held his arm up to the window and watched it change colors from red to green as they drove through the city. Eventually, the lights stopped, and Bart realized they were driving through a heavily wooded area. _How far removed is this school?_ Eventually they came out of the woods and into a small square, where Bart saw the looming academy.

              The academy was harshly painted, some abomination of pink with gold trim everywhere. The driver turned around expectantly, and Bart grabbed some money from his wallet. Once again getting out into the rain, he turned back to the cab. “Can you wait a minute please?”

              The driver huffed in response, and Bart grabbed his luggage. As he was closing the door, the front door to the Academy burst open and he saw a boy standing there. The boy was afraid, shaking and out of breath, and yelling to someone inside. “I saw the secret behind the door. The Iris… turn the blue one!”

              The boy ran out of the building and the door slammed behind him. Bart passed him, but the boy didn’t even acknowledge him as he ran in terror. Bart shrugged it off and rang inside. “Hello?” he asked.

              “Who is it?” came a voice. He could tell it was a woman’s voice, and she sounded young.

              “Bart Allen. Uh, I just got in from New York?”

              “We don’t know you. Go away!”

              “But I have the letter you sent! Look, it’s really raining hard. Could you just let me in? I’ll explain!”

              “Go away. Go away!”

              “But you don’t understand-“

              Bart was cut off by the driver angrily honking. “Can you just wait one more minute?”

              The driver pointed at his watch, which Bart took as a yes. He tried the voice box again. “Hello, is anybody there? Hello!”

              There was no answer this time, so Bart got back in the cab, deciding to get a hotel and try again in the morning. As they drove back to Freiburg proper, Bart saw the boy from he school running through the woods, screaming. Bart wondered what could have driven a person to such madness.


	2. La Morte d’un Beau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Tim Drake's swift, painful end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer but still short. Once the main setup of Suspiria is established with the next chapter, they will begin to be longer as I explore new ideas and things not in the original film (like a developed romance). All chapter titles will be in French in homage to ballet.

              It had been an awful goddamn day for Tim Drake. His suspicions about the school confirmed, he knew he had to get out. He warned them, though he wasn’t sure how much good that would do. Now all he could do was escape. He just had to get to town…

              He saw a taxi drive by but didn’t care to flag it down. He just knew he had to keep running. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he came to Freiburg. He had a friend there he hoped would let him stay the night. As he walked the rainy city, looking for a phone booth, he couldn’t help but feel as if someone was watching him. Every few steps he would look over his shoulder, positive he had sensed something. He never saw anything.

              He came across a phone booth and used the only spare change he had to call his friend Cassie Sandsmark. After being patched through, he heard a tired voice say “Hello?”

              “Cassie, it’s me. It’s Tim. I need a place to stay for the night- can I stay with you?”

              “Tim? What’s wrong?”

              “I can’t explain. Can you help me?”

              “Of course, Tim. Do you have my address?”

              “Yes. I’m not far, I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

              “Tim, is everything alright?”

              “No.”

              Tim hung up the phone and began on his way to Cassie’s. He thought he saw a figure dressed in all black at one point, but when he looked again they were gone. Probably just an after-effect of what he’d seen. He had once loved this city; Freiburg, and all her people, had been kind. Now all he saw was danger, monstrosities and abominations at every turn. Unspeakable evil lurking just beneath the surface, ready to pop out of the ground and destroy everything good. This evil devoured people like him.

              Tim knew the building the second he saw it: it looked like someone threw up pink and green paint on the outside. He had been here only once before, but he remembered making some lighthearted joke about it back then. Now he thought it just looked deceitful and sad. How anyone could stand to live in this city was beyond him now. He tried to ignore his feeling of impending doom so as not to frighten Cassie, but he noticed he was not very successful.

              When he entered, he saw more of the bright geometric fever dream he had seen outside, now made worse by an equally obnoxious pink floor. The ceiling contained a large stained-glass window, geometric patterns of yellow, blue and red adorning it. _A fall from the height would kill someone_ , he thought. Were these the only thoughts that could pervade his head now? There were two options to get to a higher floor: the elevator or the stairs. The stairs were a disgusting mint green that clashed with the lime and pink of the walls. The elevator, a softer pastel pink, looked much more inviting.

He rushed to the elevator as though someone were chasing him; he himself wasn’t sure someone wasn’t. When he finally got to Cassie’s apartment, he was tired and sweaty, both from the running and from the fear. Cassie’s face upon seeing him said it all. “Why don’t you take a nice hot shower and I’ll prepare the couch?”

              He did just that. The water was nice, it calmed him. He could barely remember the last time he was calm. Maybe the day before, or perhaps it been the day before that. He’d aged a hundred years since then. As he got out of the shower, he felt someone looking at him. When he went to the window, however, he saw nothing. Putting on a bathrobe, he went to go join his friend in the other room.

              “If you’re happy on the couch you can stay as long as you like.”

              “Thanks, but I’ll be leaving in the morning. I’ll be going away forever.”

              “Oh, big deal. So, you got kicked out of school. I always got kicked out of school, beginning in Kindergarten.”

              “No, that’s not it. I don’t give a damn about being kicked out.”

              “Well then?”

              “It’s useless to try to explain it to you. You wouldn’t understand. It all seems so… absurd. So fantastic. All I can do is get away from here, as soon as possible. Would you mind if I used the bathroom? I was just running.”

              “No, of course not. Go ahead.”

              Tim quickly went back into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He didn’t need to use the bathroom, he just needed the excuse to not talk anymore. He hadn’t noticed the walls before, but they were painted the same horrid colors as the rest of the building, only with less geometric designs. There were birds, layered in threes, one pink, one green, and one white. About two thirds of the ay down the wall from the ceiling, a white stripe ran horizontally around the bathroom. Green and pink vertical stripes descended from there. The window was stained glass, depicting blue flowers on a yellow background. _An Iris_ , he thought, _how fucking perfect_.

              Just as he thought this, the window blew open. He screamed and ran out of the bathroom. “What’s wrong?”

“The wind… the windows burst open. It scared me.”

“No. That’s not it. I mean what’s got you so upset?”

Tim didn’t answer.

“Okay, you can tell me about it later.”

With that, Cassie left him in the bathroom alone again. He felt watched again, so he went to examine the windows. Suddenly, a gloved hand burst through the glass and pulled his face against the window. He screamed for help and though Cassie tried to open the door, it had somehow been locked.

“Let me in! Tim!”

Tim continued to scream as his face was brutally smashed against the window. The arm kept pushing his face in, and he could feel the pressure against the glass building up.

Cassie ran out of the apartment, banging on all the doors. She begged for even one of her neighbors to open their door, exclaiming “Help me! There’s a murderer!” Alas, none of them did.

The glass finally gave way and Tim’s face came crashing through. Tim was dragged out of the window and up onto the roof. Tim crawled on the roof until he felt a sharp pain in his side, he looked to see he had been stabbed by his assailant. His cries filled the sky of Freiburg, but nobody was listening. He crawled away some more, and the assailant got hold of the knife and ripped it out. Tim was stabbed over and over in his stomach and upper body. The assailant dragged Tim onto the stained glass.

Tim noticed the assailant grab some cord, and barely struggled when it was wrapped around his stomach and arms. He was so far gone from the pain, he stopped feeling the new stab wounds. Directly beneath him, Cassie ran into the main floor. The assailant punched his face, breaking through the glass and sending a small portion raining down. It landed right in front of Cassie, shattering. She fell backwards in her attempt to dodge it.

Finally, he glass gave way to the weight on it, raining down on Cassie. A large portion landed directly into her face, killing her. As Tim fell, the cord tightened, moving up his body to around his neck, where it pulled taught. The force snapped his neck, killing him. Silence rang through the building. The beautiful, dead body of Tim Drake hang motionless in the lobby. Eventually, the cord snapped and sent his body to the cold, hard, pink floor below.


	3. Impulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart is thrown into his new life at the school very quickly.

**CHAPTER THREE: Impulse**

              “Thank you for coming back today. I apologize for the confusion last night, we are looking into who could have responded to you in such a manner so late.”

              Pamela Isley was the Vice-directress of the school, and exuded power and poise on an almost inhuman level. Her green dress contrasted her bright red hair; Bart wondered to himself how recently she must have dyed it to give it that color. Green eyes, an almost green tint to her skin, bright red lipstick. She looked like a Christmas-colored nightmare.

              “That’s alright, I was able to find a nice-enough motel.”

              “Shall we begin the tour?”

              Madame Vert began by showing Bart the main hall. “This hall connects you to everything you need: stairs to the other levels, food hall, and four of our seven dance studios. The four studios on this level are Studio A, Studio B, Studio C, and Studio D. Simple, yes?”

              “I don’t know how I’ll keep track of them all.”

              “Do you have trouble with the lettering system?”

              “No.”

              “If you have trouble, we can surely get you a chart.”

              “I’m not having trouble. I was just, like, making a joke.”

              Madame Vert gave him a condescending nod and continued towards the stairs.

              “Each studio has a small changing space; our big locker room is on the second floor. We’ll stop there in a moment, but first we are going to go to Studio B for your audition.”

              “Audition.”

              “Yes. You did prepare an audition piece?”

              “I did, I just thought it was later in the day.”

              “Well, it’s right now.”

              Suddenly, Bart was pushed through a doorway and into a brightly lit room. Mirrors lined the three walls he could see, reflections of himself staring blankly back at him. He turned and saw the door had closed behind him. Above the door was a large white letter “B”. He turned back and saw a table where five people sat. The woman in the middle had red hair, pulled into a tight bun.  Next to her was a young blond boy. The boy looked at the woman, then at Bart, and then at the woman again. The woman pursed her lips.

              “Bartholomew Allen?”

              “Yes.”

              “My name is Miss Circe. What have you prepared for us today?”

              “Just a piece I sorta came up with this summer?”

              “Does this piece have a name?”

              “Uh… no.”

              “Every piece should have a name.”

              “I’m sorry, I really thought I’d have more time to prepare.”

              “Maybe you could name your piece, and that might prepare you to dance it.”

              Bart thought for a moment.

              “Mr. Allen.”

              “Yeah. The piece is called _Impulse_.”

              “Alright. Whenever you’re ready Mr. Allen, show us _Impulse_.”

              Bart took a breath. He was nervous, understandably so as he had just been asked to perform an audition piece impromptu in his street clothes. _Dancing in jeans isn’t the worst thing_ , he thought, _it’s just this piece would be better in dance attire_. He shook out his limbs and began the dance.

              Bart first danced in his backyard when he was a child. It was open and to a four-year-old, it went on for miles. Twirling, jumping, very undisciplined but full of life and joy. When he was six, he started studying ballet. He took on jazz and tap as well by the time he was eight. His mission in life seemed to be to eat, sleep, and breathe dance. When he was 15, he still danced in the backyard, although it no longer stretched for miles and his movement was much more precise.

              His mother died when he was 17 and he no longer found joy in dance. All the work, all the sweat and blood and tears just reminded him of how much his mother had sacrificed for him to dance. And he had danced, rather than spend time with his mother before she was gone. She was almost a distant memory, even though it had only been two years. Bart no longer found joy in dance, but at the same time it was all he wanted to do. It was the only thing he had ever done, and now it was the only thing he could do.

              He stretched out his arms and began his turns. He wasn’t sure how long the piece had gone on already. Twenty, thirty seconds. Maybe forty. Maybe five minutes. He started a pirouette and used his momentum to push off from the ground, and when he landed began turning again. Faster and faster, until he finally stopped, and he noticed that Madame Vert was standing next to the table of women. He wasn’t sure if she’d seen the whole thing or just reentered. Either way, she looked intensely interested in what was happening.

              “Let’s introduce you to some classmates.”

              Madame Vert next took him to one of the locker rooms. Several dancers around his age milled about, talking and changing. Vert took Bart to a group of three dancers, two girls and one boy. She gestured to a thin redheaded girl with a pink butterfly clip in her hair.

              “This is Megan. She has been gracious enough to let you live with her in her apartment.”

              “No school lodging?”

              “We do have some, but they are full for the year. Megan is being very kind by letting you stay with her.”

              “No, yeah, thank you, Megan.”

              “Of course.”

              The boy with her was a very handsome Latino. He stuck out his hand for Bart to shake, which he did.

              “My name is Jaime Reyes.”

              Jaime held his hand for probably a bit too long before letting go.

              “I’m Kory Anders.”

              The other girl, a gorgeous black girl with bright pink hair, waved at him.

              “Bart Allen.”

              “Bart, I hope your new peers can help you settle in. I wish I could finish our tour but I’m afraid I’ve just learned of some rather important business that needs my attention.”

              “Okay. Uh, thanks for everything, Madame Vert.”

              Vert nodded and exits, disappearing into the crowd of students.

              “So, Bart, do you want to go into town tonight?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please review, it's super helpful and motivating!


End file.
